


My first mystrade ..

by eliza_doolittlethings



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Meeting, M/M, my first attempt at mystrade, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:40:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24475906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliza_doolittlethings/pseuds/eliza_doolittlethings
Summary: Mycroft Holmes is a writer who has OCD and on his way to the publisher almost breaks down from anxiety ..
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 22
Kudos: 113





	1. Chapter 1

[ ](https://elizadoolittlethings.tumblr.com/post/177952473602/mystrade-drabble-for-lilynevin)

Mycroft Holmes rushed into the lift as the door opened, breathing a sigh of relief, overwhelmed by the clawing attention of fans. The escape was narrow, but well timed. Suddenly aware of the man next to him, arms almost touching, he moved farther away, towards a corner of the lift. Even though there were only the two of them, he panicked. Not that he was claustrophobic. Simply uneasy of contact with strangers. His personal space was sacred. It was the energy field that he held sacred - his well of ideas, for all his books.

“Are you ok? “ The voice disturbed him, in a good way.

Looking around at the other occupant in the lift, he noticed that the man was handsome, though tired, with a stubble that looked a couple of days old. He wore an old suit that were wrinkled from leaving them in the drier for too long. His hair was greying on the sides, slightly overgrown, but suited him. Suddenly Mycroft realised that the man was extending his arm as if touch him, enquiring about his health.

“Oh. Yes. Just tired.” Mycroft replied off-handedly.

The man seemed to scrutinise him. As he prayed for the lift to reach the basement, it opened on the ground floor to let in a couple of women. They started squealing the moment they noticed him. Cringing from the loud noise in the small space, Mycroft tried to shrink himself into the corner. Being tall did not help. The man moved towards him intentionally.

“Please, ladies, give the man some space.” He extended his arm between Mycroft and the women.

“Who are you? His bodyguard!” The shorter one asked defiantly.

“Ooh, that’l be cool. You look fit enough to be one. So, Mr.Holmes, do you always go around with personal protection. Afraid we may manhandle you?” The taller one inched closer her voice seductively low.

“Come on now. Both of you.” The man seemed determined to fend them off.

Mycroft thanked the Gods that he never believed in when the lift dinged.

“Oh no! We are in the basement! We’re going to miss our interview. What’ll we do?” The shorter one was wailing.

“Serve you right for harassing the poor man, and not paying attention to where you’re going.” The man pushed them aside to make way for Mycroft to exit the lift.

“Good bye, ladies. Hope you do well in the interview” and in a whisper for only Mycroft to hear “Good luck to the bosses who hire you.” He smiled at Mycroft as if it was an inside joke. Then wrinkled his forehead seeing Mycroft look pale and about to faint.

“Here, come on. You need to sit down before you topple over. Let me help you.” He put an arm around Mycroft’s waist allowing him rest his entire weight on him and led him towards a pillar.

“Do you know where your car is? I came on a motorbike. It’s parked around the corner from the exit. Can you walk till there? Maybe I should let you sit down here. Rest your back on this pillar. I’ll go get some water for you.” He stopped his babbling seeing Mycroft hold up his left arm in the direction of the cars next to the pillar.

“Oh. OK. Let’s get you to your car.”

They made their way slowly, Mycroft leaning heavily on the other man. Feeling Mycroft stop abruptly the man looked at him and saw Mycroft glance to his left.

The involuntary whistle from him made Mycroft smile.

“Hah. At last! thought you were needing hospitalisation. Give me the keys. She’s a beauty. Never seen a Porsche Cayenne up close.” He deftly manoeuvred Mycroft while handling the keys. Opening the driver’s side, he paused.

“You can’t drive. Not in this state.” The man was scrutinising Mycroft.

“I’m fine. Just need to sit down for a minute. I have pills in the glove compartment. Could you hand them to me?” Mycroft’s voice was soft but steady. Satisfied, the man let him sit, then walked over to the passenger side, opened the glove compartment and handed him a pill bottle.

“Thank you.” Mycroft offered, before opening a tiny bottle of water that seemed to appear from nowhere, and popping two pills.

“My pleasure.” He waited for a response. Then went ahead “So, you’re a celebrity?”

The smile and shake of Mycroft’s head made the man laugh.

“I’m only a writer. Been visiting my publisher on floor 12.” Mycroft sighed, re-capping the bottle and placing in a concealed compartment under the seat.

“Must be famous, from the way those two were going at you.” The man couldn’t help poking fun. And Mycroft seemed to be enjoying it! That was a first.

“I’m Greg by the way.” The man extended his hand and Mycroft tentatively grasped it. He avoided handshakes at all costs. Kept a hand-sanitiser in his pocket for inevitable encounters. but, strangely, he didn’t feel the need to use it. The hand-shake lasted a bit longer than was necessary. Mycroft felt the loss when Greg cleared his throat and released his hand.

“So, I better be off then. You’ll be needing to go write or something. Shouldn’t keep you. Right. So long then. Nice meeting you. Oh, by the way, where can I get your books?” Greg was already out of the car and bent down to look at Mycroft.

“Ehm. I write under a pseudonym.” Was all that Mycroft said in reply. Greg waited but got no response.

“What? You write porn or something?” Greg blurted out, and then regretted his wry sense of humour. For Mycroft had turned scarlet and Greg was not sure if it was the truth or he was angry at being being made fun of.

“I.. I..” Mycroft stuttered.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Meant it as a joke! Don’t bother about me. I’m just a…” he muttered to himself “jobless single parent who waits at tables to keep his daughter in school.”

Mycroft being the over-sensitive sharp deducer that helped him in his profession was out of the car and beside Greg in no time. “Why don’t we go for a drink. I’ll tell you about my works and you tell me if it is porn or literature.” He opened the door for Greg to enter.

Greg only stood there dumbfounded, staring at this handsome man who seemed too good to be true.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg gets to know the man behind the writer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've completed the story. No angst, just some fluff. Due to inconsistent network I'll post them as small chapters. Thank you all for reading, leaving kudos and commenting!
> 
> I tend to make Mycroft a good driver, for I enjoy driving :)

The car ride was strangely quiet and Greg got the drift; the man was used to silence. He looked comfortable now, in the safety of his car, driving just within the speed limit, sky blue eyes focussed on the traffic and signals.

There were a thousand questions at the tip of his tongue, but he bit it hard to keep from uttering a single word.

“You can ask whatever you like,” Mycroft spoke suddenly while smoothly braking for a traffic signal just in time.

“I thought you’d make it, the signal, I mean,” Greg joked, glancing at the handsome man who held the steering with gloved hands that looked sinfully sexy.

Mycroft followed the man’s gaze to his hands and suddenly feeling self conscious rubbed the steering wheel nervously.

“Do I make you uneasy?” Greg asked with concern.

The signal changed then. Swiftly shifting gears, Mycroft took the car into the crowded lane while replying with a hint of a smile, “Not all Greg. On the contrary, you help me relax.”


	3. Chapter 3

Smiling widely, Greg gazed at Mycroft with a sudden longing that he’d never felt before. Feeling ashamed of his thoughts, he cleared his throat and asked, “You never gave your name?”

The car slowed suddenly and backing it neatly into a parking space, Mycroft switched off the engine, looked at Greg warmly and replied, “Mark. Shall we?” he asked, gesturing to the bistro down the road.

‘Mark’ was already out of the car. Greg made his exit and joined him, waiting to cross the road. Seeing an opening, Greg stepped down from the pavement, when he felt a strong grip on his hand and looked back.

“Wait for the signal,” ‘Mark’ admonished him, a curious look on his face.

“Do you know 70% of RTA’s are caused by pedestrians?”

Mycroft spoke casually while looking to both sides when the signal turned green, then guided Greg across.

Unable to control the smile, Greg asked, “You’re some sort of nerd, aren’t you?”

Affronted by the comment, Mycroft removed his hand from Greg’s back and slowed his pace, his face grim.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad sort, hey!” Greg moved closer, grabbing the man’s arm. “Mark! Sorry,” he apologised, licking his lips, then continued, “I’m not very good at small talk, you know.” He cleared his throat and continued, “Cracking jokes help me feel at par with others.”

Mycroft patted Greg’s hand with a ghost of a smile at the corner of his thin lips. “Let us have tea,” he encouraged Greg.

Greg reached the door to the cafe and turned back to see Mycroft standing a feet away glaring at his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how to cut the story into chapters. So posting around 250 words per chapter ..  
> Looks like there will be 10 chapters or so ...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interruption changes things - for good or bad?

Watching ‘Mark’s’ face change colour from pink to red, he knew something was wrong. Greg walked back to the man who silently listened to whomever was at the other end, a myriad emotions passing across that handsome face.

Hands pushed deep in his trouser pockets, Greg licked his lips and rocked to and fro on his heels, waiting.

“I am terribly sorry,” Mycroft apologised, his brow furrowed, eyes emotional. 

“What’s the matter?” Greg asked, moving closer, concerned.

With a twitch of his lips, the man grumbled, “It’s my brother.”

“Can I help?” Greg offered, his right hand grabbing Mycroft’s.

An involuntary smile graced his thin lips, lighting up the clouded face. Greg smiled back brightly.

As they got back into the car, Greg itched to ask the details but remained silent for Mycroft seemed thoughtful.

The ride was a long one, more than an hour. The car parked, Mycroft sat contemplating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the delay and a short post - RL has been hell!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg gets a glimpse of where Sherlock is.

“There is something you need to know about him,” Mycroft spoke hesitantly, his voice just a wisp.

Greg placed his hand on Mycroft’s arm resting on the steering wheel, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t give a damn. Let’s go.”

A change came over ‘Mark’, who stared wide eyed at him, his ice-blue eyes piercing Greg, who made a funny face unsure how his comment was taken.

“This way,” Mycroft said, business-like and moved to an old two storey building.

* * *

The door was not locked. Greg watched ‘Mark’ open it in a hurry and rush up the stairs. He was met on the landing by a young unkempt man who was speaking too fast to get a clear picture. 

Hesitating to follow, Greg waited below, fidgeting with his coat, when ‘Mark’ looked down at him and raised an eyebrow. The invitation was what he wanted. Rushing up the stairs he asked, “Yes?”

Mycroft moved to the room at the end of the corridor.

“He is in here,” the man said, indicating the open door, while waiting impatiently.

Greg peeked in and saw a huddled form under a large blanket on a bed the size for a family. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg finds a way to communicate with Sherlock ..

“He hasn’t had anything since last night,” the man behind them said, his tone unapologetic.

“What am I paying you for, to supply him with drugs?!” Mycroft gritted out, his face red with rage, hands fisted by his sides.

Greg placed his hand on Mycroft’s back and gently urged him into the room.

“Sherlock,” Mycroft enquired quietly, seating himself next to the still form on the bed cover.

No reply only angered him, but Greg gently touched his shoulder and shook his head whispering, “Why not get some food for him and us. Let me see what I can do?”

_ {half an hour later} _

Mycroft approached the room carrying a tray and paused just outside the door, listening to Sherlock make fun of the man who was laughing softly.

Surprised by the change in his brother, Mycroft edged closer to the open door and stood with his shoulder resting on the frame.

“You need not eavesdrop. We have better things to discuss than you,” Sherlock ’s mocking tone made him raise an eyebrow and enter the room with the tray. He placed it on the night stand that Greg hurriedly cleared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, i apologise for the delay ..  
> net speed was horrendous and ao3 was not loading  
> hope to post regularly now  
> thank you and hope you like it


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers have a 'chat' ..

##  _ Chapter 7 _

After a quick meal Greg said his goodbyes and left. Mycroft saw him off and returned to the bedroom to collect the tray.

“Try not to foul this one up,” the sage-like voice from beneath the covers was not mocking, only tired.

“And it was my fault, last time?” Mycroft asked, clearly irritated.

“You’re better off without ‘Jim’ in your life,” Sherlock’s sarcasm was not veiled, as the lump turned and the covers fell away, revealing dark hair and studied eyes.

“I wish you would stop this attention seeking behaviour!” Mycroft hissed, picking up the tray.

“You have my approval,” Sherlock commented before turning to the other side and pulling the cover over his head.

Washing the dishes meticulously, Mycroft wiped them dry, wiped his hands and placed the towel on the rung to dry. Picking up the glass of brandy he’d poured out, he put out the lights and walked to his study.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changes in Mycroft's life and his attitude ..

##  _ Chapter 8 _

“You have my approval.”

Sherlock’s words echoed in his ears. 

Mycroft moved to the record player and gently placed the needle of the gramophone on the revolving disc, the song drowning the ‘voices’.

Settling with the drink near the fire, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back, when a low hum from his coat pocket reached his ears.

The message was from Greg

**Good night GL**

Smiling softly, Mycroft replied

**Good night MH**

and let out a sigh.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he rose from the chair and walked to the record player to change the song.

Thinking again, he switched it off and walked to his desk, opened the laptop and went through the docs. Then opening a new document started typing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another 'chat' ...

##  _ Chapter 9 _

_ [well past midnight] _

“You’re writing again,” Sherlock’s feeble voice from the door didn’t stop him. Dragging his feet and the blanket that covered him from head to floor, Sherlock made it to the couch and huddled before the dying fire. 

Slender fingers moved gracefully along the keys, eyes focussed on the glowing screen, the only hint of acknowledgement, a ghost of a smile adorning one corner of his mouth.

“Take him to some nice restaurant, not that Molly Hooper’s cafe you frequent,” the baritone voice was very brotherly, almost protective.

The tapping on the keys paused, for but a second, then continued.

“And invite his child to your book reading club. She will like that.”

A soft sigh filled the now silent room, as the long fingers rested on the desk.

“Better give him your real name,” the emphatic tone made Mycroft actually smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had written Mycroft introducing himself as Mark, his alias for his novels ...


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and daughter have a lovely time with Mycroft.

##  _ Chapter 10 _

_ [a few weeks later - outside a toy store]  _

“Thanks for the outing,” Greg commented, knowing how superfluous the word was. ‘Mark’ Mycroft {Greg corrected in his mind} had phoned asking whether he would like to bring his daughter along for the weekend - a short trip. Excited, Greg had immediately agreed, not realising the expenses that would follow.

M .. Mycroft {he corrected again} had insisted on taking them out for shopping and although Greg let his daughter indulge, he adamantly refused anything.

“Are you sure that there is nothing that would interest you?” Mycroft asked softly, his eyes gazing deeply into Greg’s.

Smiling warmly the man whispered, “How about we come alone next weekend?” while watching his daughter scold her new stuffed tiger just a few steps from them.

Then he called her, “Come, Ella, the car is this way.”

Turning around and gazing at him, Ella adjusted the straps of her back pack after tucking her ‘Tigger’ under her chin. 

“You need to be more careful with your gift. And, have you thanked Uncle Mycroft?” Greg’s comment made the girl pout and licking her lips, looked up at the man standing next to her father, whose eyes behind the spectacles shone with mirth.

“Thank you,” she supplied studiously and grabbed her father’s hand while ‘Tigger’ was safely tucked under her other arm, resting on her hip.

[](http://www.wireimage.com/celebrity-pictures/Actor-Rupert-Graves-and-daughter-Ella-Graves-attend-the-English/102125815)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it's not confusing ..  
> I mess it up when I write ..
> 
> Maybe I should write more - interaction between Mycroft and Ella, but, both are quite shy ..

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read. I simply wanted to share this with all ...  
> Forgive me for all the mistakes.  
> Do read for fun.


End file.
